Thursday, 29 March 2012

The Little Candy Store

Every day my feet rush me to work, sidewalk cracks passing like seams on an escalator, brushing shoulders with familiar yet unknown people, out of breath, focused on getting somewhere else. Nods instead of smiles, grunts instead of hellos, we have places to be after all. The world waits on us and expects us to hurry and deliver.

And each day my pace slows slightly as I pass the candy store...admiring the display that the much slower man behind the glass always builds. A tower, a pyramid of treats. Colors and shapes of all sorts. I imagine the scents must move like a sweet spring breeze over the morning’s dew. And I always spot one treat I want as my pace picks up and I round the corner. Maybe tomorrow. Next week? Okay..Saturday? I’ve said it for years. Later. But a Saturday does arrive...and I'm late. So I look at my choice and resolve to come back the next day. CLOSED/Out of Business!

Now I wish I had stopped, touched that treat...tasted it...appreciated it and mostly remembered the sweetness of it.
And I wish I'd held my daughters hand more often.
And I wish I'd taken my son fishing when he had asked with his big beautiful eyes wide open.
And I wish I'd taken my father to breakfast once in awhile, and maybe hinted that I really did love him.
And I wish I'd taken my Mother on a magical vacation, even though she only asked for an occasional call.
But hey, I had places to be and other things to do as the world rushed by.

And now, we are closed and out of business. My daughter has left. My son wants a new video game. My father is dead and Mom finds a vacation in a glass of brandy.

The loved ones in our lives are gifts. Treats if you will. Remember to admire their wrappings. Take the time to remember their scent. Do not hesitate or delay only to find the shop is closed and out of business.
Gunner  ©

Wednesday, 28 March 2012

Flights of Freedom

What does it matter
if angels sing and gods laugh
When a mans tear has the weight of an ocean
and his heartaches are earthquakes of glass

Would that my open hands
grasp my sweetest dream
except my clouded eyes
see the raven wish to fly

What does it matter
if a thousand stars shout your name
Or the devil sees you and gives up the game
When a mans tear has the weight of an ocean
and his heartaches are earthquakes of glass

And stifle this bursted sob
no need to rush eternities job
but pull the talons from my flesh
and from her prison ruled in squares
lift her to flight with a prayer I dare

What does it matter
if angels sing and gods laugh
When a mans tear has the weight of an ocean
and heartaches are earthquakes of glass

And now I fall like the autumns scream
my will rather hold a stone upon my head
to see her wings set free
and not  a prisoner of my twisted grip instead

Gunner ©

Sunday, 11 March 2012

First Kiss

The first kiss! Remember this?
Like a glass of clean water when you were thirsty,
it felt like a glass of life.
For you I wish
That every kiss
Would be like this.
The first lovers embrace
Like the tumbling stream falling off the mountains spine
It reminds you..this is mine.
For you I wish
That every embrace
Would find you feeling like fine lace.
The first few trembles of passions bloom
Like the wave skimming the surface of the valley's lake
It rises and pitches to fold on the bank
Then dives deep with a gasp and a shake
For you I wish
That every day
Would find you a kiss, an embrace and a shake.
Gunner ©

Thursday, 8 March 2012

The Edge of Sense

Look at me as I drag these new fashion shoes through the settling dust of my dreams
See how I race my painted motorcycle around the walls of an empty box.
And what has become of all the colors, the scents I swear touched the edge of my senses
Is it only me? Has your viewer gone to grey as well?
I miss those gifts I've known. The breathless whisper of love, the excitement of a couples dance.
Is it gifts I should offer the goddess? A larger sacrifice perhaps.
Take these tears, and wash away the love I might have spilled on you.
Take this, my promise, and like a flag, wave it at your target till the need is gone and toss it aside.
And here is my heart, throw it down on the river's belly, step on it to reach the other side of your dreams.
I give you this too, my skin filled with hope. Take it and pour it out on another path, where it will become your own hope for someone other than I.
And here is my faith, every drop for you to burn like fuel in your lamps. And when the glow fades to nothing, roll over into the shadow beside you, and try to find warmth in that stone. Or look west..where the sun burns a resting place into the sea..and watch my sails unfurl...a course on you...your fire my guide.